


Trailer Trash Prince

by Fitzcarraldo



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Sex, Begging, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:47:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22358167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fitzcarraldo/pseuds/Fitzcarraldo
Summary: Words are cheap, but Kenny's too poor to afford that. Thankfully, he could convince Eric another way.
Relationships: Eric Cartman/Kenny McCormick
Comments: 17
Kudos: 92





	Trailer Trash Prince

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I wrote this story in June 2019 when I was inspired by a roleplay I had with a good friend, Jax (the RP itself was started by Al and Rachel in their South Park server). I dedicate this piece to everyone who had participated in that RP. Even if I am reclusive and even if we don't always talk, I haven't forgotten you. I had a hankering to write a scene between the scenes, and thus I did. You do not need any further context in order to enjoy this story, as it is mostly sex with only passing references to a greater plot. Thank you for reading. Please let me know if you have any thoughts or passing emotions!

Had he ever seen a man eat so many nachos in one bite? Kenny was an _animal._ Eric daintily sipped his girly mixed drink and watched in mingled admiration and fear. He was starting to fade into a comfortable level of complacent fuzzy warmth as he watched the other two boys, Craig and Clyde, giggle over some stupid shit on their phones.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to come out here. It separated him from phone drama a little, but going out also led to its own uncomfortable situations. He tried his new cologne tonight, something that made him feel masculine. Kenny had opened the door to his room earlier that day and immediately said “Oh man, you smell really good” and then leaned far into his space to smell him. He had pushed Kenny away, pulse beating madly and face hot. Kenny was just like that, he guessed.

Kenny was too casually physical anyway. Despite hanging out with Eric, namely _the_ Eric Cartman, the Monster of South Park, the person with the untouchable disease of obesity and instability, Kenny would fling his arm around his neck anyway, as if the smell of his reputation didn't matter at all. Or he would walk by his side with a hand resting on his shoulder. Kenny’s gestures of seemingly genuine friendship unnerved Eric for unnameable reasons.

Now he was -- oh fuck, what was Kenny doing? Kenny pushed aside, stacked, or just plain old _dropped_ all the food and drinks on the table, clearing the way for him to -- oh no. He was going to dance. Cliched move, but a perennial favorite for young drunks. Thankfully as soon as Kenny had started clearing the tabletop, Eric had grabbed his fru-fru drink and his plate of onion rings and slowly backed up toward the bar, his eyes not leaving the scene for a second. Though the place was a jungle and security was scarce, he didn't need to reveal his connection to the guy when they did finally show up. Unfortunately for him, they never did.

Despite all known projections, predictions, and postulations, Eric was a quiet drunk; the more he hid behind his fruity drinks, the more disinterested he became, until he slumped over with a thud on the table that Kenny had formerly been dancing on.

“Uh oh, Princess here's getting bored.” 

Eric was quite drunk and was unavailable for comment.

“Come on, tubby, let's go.” Kenny grabbed Eric’s arm and yanked his lifeless friend to his feet.

Kenny, the drunken MVP he was, half-carried his sack of mumbling dead weight to a Lyft and traveled back to the hotel.

“Eric, honey, you're gonna have to move.”

“Mm.”

“Eric, _move your feet!_ One after the other, Princess, come on, you can do it!”

Eric reluctantly shuffled toward the hotel’s front doors, squinting at the lobby’s lights. “Tired.”

Kenny got behind Eric, put his hands lovingly on Eric’s back, and slid him forward like a heavy box.

“Ugh, Kenny, stop! I can walk on my own.” 

“Then prove it. Come on, if you hurry up then you can go to bed faster.”

Eric whined obnoxiously every few minutes, but they did make it to the elevator, where he leaned heavily against the wall, and then to their room, where he fell face-first into the bed. The sweet oblivion of the garish bedspread was quickly dragging him --

A sharp slap on his ass jerked him back into life.

“Ay! What the fuck are you doing?!”

He heard Kenny giggling from behind him. “You jiggle.” 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kenny’s hand reach out to do it again and Eric flipped over in a panic. 

Kenny’s sparkling mischievous eyes pissed Eric off.

“What are you laughing at, trailer trash?”

Kenny didn't even blink at the insult. “You.”

“I'm not funny, _Kenny._ ” This made Kenny giggle more, that infuriating impish snickering. “Kenny, I said it’s not _funny._ ”

“Aww, you're so cute when you're mad.” He pinched his cheek and then plopped on the bed next to him and immediately started snoring.

***

Eric woke up with a start, having fallen asleep in the exact spot he had landed last night. Kenny hadn't moved either but he was pretty sure he was still alive, anyway.

Goddammit he was sore. How was Kenny’s bed so uncomfortable when all the beds were supposed to be the same? Did he have some kind of deleterious effect on anything luxurious, like a plague?

He hoped the shower had not succumbed to Kenny’s power of decay.

In the shower, he was blessed with hot water at least, but that was about it. Kenny, he was disappointed yet unsurprised to find out, had been using the hotel’s shampoo and soap. The conditioner was nowhere to be found. He guessed he was going to have to slum it. He sighed and reached for the shitty shampoo.

Then the bathroom door opened and the shampoo bottle almost shot out of his hand.

“Hey, Eric,” Kenny said, muffled.

“K--Kenny, what the--get the fuck out! I'm showering!”

The only answer was Kenny unzipping his pants and taking a piss.

Eric couldn't believe the indignity so he just closed his eyes and washed his hair with the subpar shampoo. He could beat Kenny’s ass after he was clean.

Then Eric met an even worse indignity: the shower curtain pulled back and Kenny’s gap-toothed smile pierced Eric’s naked soul.

“What’s up, sugartits, come here often?”

“Kenny, what the _fuck_? Get outta here!”

“Oh, now why would I do that?”

Eric yanked the curtain closed.

***

Kenny had brought his XBOX and a fuckton of weed with him to the hotel and they were making quick work of smoking up the whole room. The fan in the bathroom did absolutely nothing to clear the air, but it whirred symbolically.

Eric was high as fuck and had no idea what game Kenny was playing nor did he remember if this was a multiplayer or single-player campaign. His controller buzzed in his lap occasionally while Kenny blew stuff up on-screen. Was he supposed to play too?

Was Kenny sitting so close to him an hour ago?

When was Stan coming back from that fag furry meeting?

Who ate all the Cheesy Poofs?

At some point Kenny had paused the game and put his controller down, but Eric had been staring so deeply into the abstract wall painting above the TV that he hadn't noticed. As soon as he realized that the room was quiet and the sun was glowing orange with weariness, he turned and gasped.

“Good God, you fucking creeper, how long have you been staring at me?!”

Kenny blinked dreamily. “I was waiting for you to notice.”

Eric remained silent.

“Wanna watch a movie?” Kenny asked.

“If it'll get you to stop looking at me like that.” He muttered under his breath, “Fag.”

They got distracted looking at bizarre B-movie horror titles on Netflix but eventually they found a good-ass movie that might actually scare someone if they were half-blind or half-witted. 

That was why Eric had curled himself into a ball while Kenny, completely unperturbed, giggled through mouthfuls of microwave popcorn. Eric furrowed his brows a little. It wasn't scary. He just had a lot going on. His nerves were shot, that's all.

The dripping mass of teeth and entrails shambled out of the dark room.

He shrieked, a high-pitched (and very wimpy) exclamation of fear. His hands flew to cover his mouth, face reddening. He was mortified and Kenny was showing no mercy.

"Oh, Princess," Kenny said with that menacing mischievous twinkle in his eyes, "dost thou needest my protection?"

"Can you _please_ shut up for just one second, Kenny, really, it's all I ever ask for," he said, still slightly higher-pitched than normal. Kenny's mouth quirked into a grin and Eric continued, "Silence is _free_ , Kenny, I know you're not too poor to afford _that_. What the fuck are you staring at?"

Instead of gracing Eric with an answer, his hand came toward Eric's face as if to pinch him, but instead Kenny's hand trailed across Eric's cheek with unintentional tenderness. Maybe he wasn't so coordinated after that joint the size of a cigar, Eric thought. But the air changed like a curtain being shut.

Kenny's eyes had softened into something Eric had never actually seen before, or maybe he was just mistaken. Maybe in a movie, or when someone was staring across at their date at dinner, or when waxing romantically about their love, the eyes softened into something fond and faraway. Eric paid attention to these soft moments only insofar as he needed to understand the unique challenges that couples presented in sales meetings.

"Kenny?" But he only smiled in return. "Y--you're freakin' me out, bud, cut it out."

Kenny reached behind him and paused the movie without breaking eye contact. Eric looked at him and at the controller in concern. If Kenny were going to murder him, he should have done so already. Unless he was building up the suspense. . . 

Then the curtains opened again, Kenny resumed the movie, and Eric took a breath.

What the hell was that?

After that shitshow of a movie was over (and Eric eyed Kenny warily, hoping he wouldn't do anything unpredictable like that again), they put on _Red Racer._ Easy, nonthreatening.

Until Kenny casually laid a hand on Eric's knee. Eric shifted a little but the hand did not move, nor did Kenny acknowledge that anything was amiss. Eric's breathing picked up, just a bit, out of (anticipation?) uncertainty. Kenny pretended nothing was wrong, but Eric swore he saw the barest hint of a smile. This pissed him off, but he wasn't going to lose this. So he remained quiet too, yet his fingers twitched.

He decided to just watch the show and let Kenny be weird, but the indignities of Eric Cartman's life never ended. The hand slid up a tiny bit, enough to remind him that it was there. Eric fought the urge to close his eyes. He could've pushed Kenny off by now, or asked him what he was doing, but he hadn't, and something told him that there was a reason for that.

The hand moved upward again, to mid-thigh, and Eric breathed more rapidly. He tasted a mixture of iron and anticipation. Was this some kind of trailer trash trick?

It moved back down; Eric exhaled.

Eric relaxed until it traveled up to its previous place, and then down and up. Kenny continued this maddening gesture for several minutes, and Eric felt like a sucker. He felt his body warm up without his consent. Heat traveled to places he didn't want it to go. He shifted his legs again. He felt a familiar itch in an unfamiliar context and he began to feel vulnerable, like prey that lay belly up; he bit his lip and restlessly played with the hem of his shorts. And for the first time that night, Eric, angry at his own obliviousness, realized that Kenny was doing this on purpose. 

Unexpectedly strained, he asked, "Kenny, what the hell are you doing?"

Kenny finally deigned to turn toward him, face open and angelic. "What's up?"

"You're touching me."

"Huh. Now how long did it take you to figure that out?"

Eric glared. 

"You could've asked me to stop."

Eric huffed. Yeah, he could have, and that angered him more. He could have, but the physical contact felt (good) innocent enough.

Kenny's eyes took on that twinkling conspiratorial look. "I think you like it."

"Jesus Christ, stop being weird." Again his voice sounded so high-pitched; when did he become such a pussy?

"Okay then, tell me to stop." Kenny's hand obstinately remained on his thigh (and it was _warm_ and he hated it).

The silence went on a beat too long. Kenny grinned. Eric had lost this silent battle.

Kenny turned toward him fully, his other hand propping him up. "Come on. Tell me to stop." His hand slid further up and Eric inhaled sharply. He remained silent, however; saying anything at this point would be a further indignant loss.

Kenny's fingertips were at the hem of Eric's black shorts and he cursed them right now for being too short, coming up pretty high on his thighs. He was defenseless.

Seeing the thoughts he failed to hide, Kenny slid his fingertips underneath the fabric. He gasped, and he immediately regretted it. Kenny looked like he'd found a winning lottery ticket in his TV dinner. Eric squeezed his thighs together and tried to look angry, but the flush spreading over his face gave him away.

He removed his fingers and Eric sighed in (disappointment) relief. He breathed quickly. He was wound up tight. Kenny eyed him curiously.

"What's the matter, Cartman? You're lookin' a little red."

Eric was _seeing_ a little red. The audacity to look so unruffled while he was already losing it! He wanted revenge. He moved to sit up and realized how stiff and heavy he felt, thanks to the fucking weed. But then he realized that he had no idea what he should do. Should he torture Kenny like he had been torturing him? Or should he grab him by the collar and throw him off the bed?

Kenny saw the uncertainty on his face and decided for him. He moved quickly, filling Eric's view suddenly, stunning him into stillness. The sharp smell of Old Spice filled his head, the air closed and heated up, all of this happening in a thunderclap of a second. He had time for one breath and then he was being kissed. 

He pulled away and Eric was too shocked to react, dizzy and stupid and so, so confused. His eyes were opened uncontrollably wide.

Kenny looked-- damn him-- triumphant. This pissed Eric off, and he was caught between leaning forward and scrambling back. What did he want? 

"What's the matter, babe?" Kenny asked, with the beginnings of concern in his voice.

"What are you doing?" Eric knew that sounded stupid but he didn't know how else to ask-- what the hell was Kenny playing at?

Kenny's incredulous look confirmed how stupid he thought he sounded. But then he smiled. "Have you seriously never been kissed?"

"No, yes, I've kissed people before!" Eric spoke a little too quickly. Ugh.

"So what's the problem? You're looking at me like I killed your cat or something."

"No, that's not-- why?"

"Why what?"

"Kenny, I don't know what you're trying to get out of this--"

"I wanted to kiss you."

"Why?"

"Are you retarded? What kind of question is that?"

"I'm Cartman."

Kenny really looked derisive now. "Wow, I never would have guessed. I thought you were that hooker I found yesterday."

"You must have if you were kissing me." Eric slumped. Why was this so hard to communicate? Didn't he get it?

"What does that mean? Cartman, you're being stupid."

"No, asshole, you're being stupid! You know who I am!"

"Yeah. And?" Eric's arguing was starting to reflect in Kenny's stormy expression.

"I'm an actual fucking Nazi, don't you get it? I hurt people and I laugh about it. I'm a piece of shit. So I don't know what you're trying to do but just quit it."

Kenny leaned back and sighed. "You have to let go of the stuff you did as a kid." Eric furrowed his brows, but let him continue. "You're not the same maniacal Hitler you were at ten."

"Yeah, but--"

"Listen, dude, you can argue how awful and terrible you are all day, but you're really not as bad as you used to be."

Eric clenched his jaw but still didn't respond, nor did he look Kenny in the eye.

"I know where you went for a year."

" _What?_ " What was he talking about? He never told anyone about that.

"You came back and you were different. You actually tried to not be a piece of shit anymore. I notice shit like that."

Eric began to calm down. "I didn't think anyone noticed."

"Well most people only know you as that guy who really hates Kyle and sounds like Alex Jones, but I mean. . . I knew."

Kenny continued before Eric could argue more, "So you said some dumbass shit to Kyle online, that's like. . . just Tuesday for you guys. No one gives a shit and you'll make up by Friday, right?"

"I guess."

"You haven't done anything really bad. Everyone has arguments." Eric looked at Kenny balefully. "It's just that yours are way louder." After a pause: "It's not like Kyle doesn't perpetuate it too." This time Eric looked up in surprise.

"C'mon, it takes two to argue. And Kyle would argue with a curvy fencepost for perpetuating gender norms or whatever." Eric bit back a laugh. He was right. He probably just got into Internet politics because he liked to argue with people while feeling morally superior. That didn't mean he actually was, though.

He sighed. "Okay, fine."

"You done pitying yourself?"

"Fuck off." 

"Good, because I wasn't done."

Kenny surged forward and caught Eric in a rough kiss before he could protest. Eric kept his mouth closed, mainly out of surprise.

He stopped. "Kiss back, fatass."

And he finally did.

Eric kept his hands at his sides at first, afraid to do anything, afraid to touch him in case he disappeared. But Kenny had no such qualms and his hands tugged at Eric's hair, making him gasp. He forced his tongue into his open mouth and Eric actually _moaned,_ which was its own embarrassment. He couldn't take it anymore and his hands grasped Kenny's arms of their own accord.

They broke away to breathe, a trail of saliva snapping between them.

"Oh fuck." Eric breathed heavily. It had been a long, long time. But Kenny didn't need to know that.

"Hell yeah."

They met again, hungrily, clacking teeth. Eric was a fat fuck and he knew what hunger felt like but this was something else. Goddammit. He couldn't believe he succumbed to this devil's tricks, already beginning to forget his protestations from a few minutes ago when Kenny's tongue trailed along his lower lip. He opened his mouth and let his tongue explore him inside, and he was really losing it. He was opening and everything was going to spill out.

Kenny's hands roamed all over, reminding him of his excess weight every time they squeezed some soft part but at the same time it drove him mad. Eric, on the other hand, was tentative, resting his hands on Kenny's waist, uncertain what to do, afraid if he moved then it would end.

They stopped again, eyes half-lidded, and the sky had darkened considerably. The sun was past the horizon now, leaving the room dusky and dark.

"What are you thinking, sweetpea?" He still sat close enough for their body heat to mingle, but Eric shivered a bit anyway. Because he was a pussy.

"I think you're about as smart as a plastic bag."

Kenny grinned. "Thanks, honey. You too."

"Ay!"

"No I really mean it, Cartman. You are so fucking stupid."

"AY!"

"Shut up and kiss me, stupid."

The indignities never stopped, did they? Eric, annoyed at Kenny and emboldened by arousal, made the first move this time, gripping his hair and attacking him. He hummed in approval. Kenny was well-known for liking a little fight. Eric roughly tilted Kenny's head to the side to deepen the kiss.

But Kenny eventually broke apart and aimed a little lower, sucking along Eric's neck. He hated how he tilted his head back to allow Kenny more access because _God_ it felt incredible. His fingers dug into Kenny's shoulders, which only made him suck harder. A sucker was born every minute and he was that sucker. Kenny's trash mouth had officially disarmed him.

That same trash mouth belonging to that same trash being grinned evilly at him now.

"I barely touch you and you're already falling apart."

" _Shut up._ " He didn't even want to know how obvious his erection must have looked in his thin cotton shorts. But that wasn't the point. He wasn't _easy._

"You're so easy," he said as he ran his fingers across Eric's thighs, causing him to jerk. He exhaled shakily and glared while Kenny laughed at him. 

"There's nothing wrong with that, babe. I like when you play the virgin for me."

Eric must have winced without noticing it because Kenny backed up a bit. He realized his fatal mistake when he saw Kenny's expression morph into one of (greed) wonder.

"Oh, I see. You weren't playing. You've never actually done this."

"Kenny, I swear to God if you make fun of me--"

"I'm not gonna make fun of you, Jesus, dude. Relax, baby. I got you."

Eric grumbled. Did he think he was some kind of sex god? 

The sex god moved to the hem of Eric's shirt, sliding it up, when Eric frantically pulled his shirt back down. He was irrationally afraid of actually taking off any of his clothes. Suddenly, it felt like way too much to ask for.

"What are you doing?" Kenny sat back with his arms supporting him. Imperceptibly, they shook.

"What are YOU doing?" 

"You know people usually get naked to have sex, right?"

Eric spluttered incoherently for a second; Kenny patiently waited for him to finish. Then he tried to play it off. "I mean, you don't actually--" 

"I have a fucking boner for YOU, you idiot. YOU, goddammit. The guy who is currently in my bed. Don't be fucking stupid."

Seeing that he was about to protest more, he grabbed Eric's hand and placed it on his crotch. His eyes widened; truly, he was the bastard son of an idiot.

"Oh."

"Uh huh." 

He felt the hard outline of his cock through the denim. "Oh." Oh fuck. This was really happening. His head swam and his cock twitched. Experimentally he squeezed it and Kenny hissed. His mouth went dry and the room was hot. The dizzy question of how he ended up here came and went with Kenny's mouth on his.

This time when Kenny's fingers played at the edge of Eric's T-shirt, he let him. He would regret this tomorrow anyway.

Kenny was hellbent on teasing him; one of his hands burrowed under his shirt to feel the skin that burned.

"Heh, you're sweaty."

" _Kenny_ ," he hissed. A warning.

"Lighten up, buttercup," he said irritatingly as he tweaked one of Eric's nipples.

He bit his lip, refusing to give Kenny the satisfaction.

"Sour puss. Let me help you out."

He tried to lift Eric's shirt, and after several seconds' hesitation, he allowed Kenny to take it off him. Briefly he was mortified that his pasty doughboy body was exposed, but he didn't have long to feel bad about it because Kenny moved quickly--street reflexes, he thought in the second before Kenny's tongue attacked his bare flesh.

Fuck, his tongue felt good. Thank God it was dark and he didn't have to be seen with his brows knitted together and his eyes half-closed, himself red and starting to shake. Their heavy breathing drowned out the town that grew quiet outside. 

Kenny bent down to suck on his nipple and finally he couldn't stay quiet. He whined as he held on to Kenny's wild blond hair, and the noise made him rougher, trying to get him to do it again. This weasel was going to find his weak points (give up, give up, he just wanted to _give up_ ).

When he moved to the other side, he whined again. He didn't think he could even _make_ a noise like that, but Kenny didn't seem to mind.

With his weasel-like reflexes (and just as Eric was going to blow up with need), he stopped to push him flat on the bed, and he realized how much he _ached._ As soon as Kenny crawled on top of him, Eric yanked him by the collar and collided teeth again, just to immediately get mad at the thin cotton shirt between them. He reached for the bottom of it to try to take it off, but Kenny raised up to do it himself, flinging the shirt over his head and into some faraway corner.

Kenny was a wiry weasel, lean muscle and pointy shoulders, a complete opposite to his own roundness. Kenny stayed on his knees for a second, allowing them to appraise one another. They couldn't keep the taut band stretched for long and they fell back into each other.

Both now naked from the waist up and pressed together without space, the sun completely sunken and only the diffuse city lights to outline them, Eric felt like he could touch Kenny with impunity. He ran his hands along all of Kenny's edges and wondered what Kenny thought about his pathetic softness. He must not be too disgusted as he squeezed one of Eric's love handles and licked a stripe up his neck.

He struggled to not move his hips, as much as he wanted to rut against Kenny's leg. Fuck, how did he keep his cool? He breathed, high-pitched and uneven, almost out of his mind with lust, buzzing with pleasure and ache from Kenny's constant teasing.

All his thoughts slowly spiraled toward the wet patch growing at the front of his pants. He was making a mess and it was Kenny's fault he was so neglected, he wanted to touch himself so badly; he snaked his hand between them to relieve himself but-- "Ahh!" He arched up at the delicious sharp pain at the juncture of his neck, Kenny having sank his teeth in him. He bucked his hips and finally, _finally_ , he felt some friction, oh God he didn't want to stop now, his mind spun downward-- And then the cold air of the room hit his heated skin, the weight no longer pressed him down, and he whimpered at the loss of contact.

His mind righted itself and he realized Kenny had stood up to slip off his jeans. He left his boxers on, plaid and obviously tented; his mouth watered involuntarily, and he swallowed. He felt some satisfaction at Kenny's own disheveled appearance, especially his hair which stood up in competing directions from his pulling. He internally huffed at the darkness because he wished he could see the flush on his face, the pupils which were surely devouring his pretty blue irises. But he saw enough.

Kenny leaned over him but did not climb back up, choosing instead to keep his feet on the floor. He had his hands on the tops of Eric's thighs with the thumbs hooked under the fabric. Eric looked down and yep, his shorts hid absolutely nothing. His stiff cock stood up in obnoxious arousal. Kenny slowly pulled his shorts off him; he lifted his hips to make it easier.

He was laid out on the bed like a specimen. Kenny was the trained scientist, and Eric was the new species to be pinned and labeled.

"You're really pretty like this," he breathed.

"What?" He tried to move but Kenny's hands kept him down.

"Yeah." He couldn't quite tell, but he thought he saw him smile. "You're actually quiet."

"Ay, shut up." Eric struggled again but did not put up much of a fight.

"Don't move yet, Wiggles. I want you like this for a minute." He paused. "Actually, scoot up a little."

"Okay." Eric moved toward the headboard. He was laser-focused.

Kenny got back on the bed, his knees on either side of Eric's calves. He rubbed Eric's legs a few times before spreading them apart, farther than Eric was usually comfortable with. He felt dissected. Again that strange feeling of being studied, cleaved open and examined. 

Kenny positioned himself and lowered his head, his mouth inches away from his clothed erection. Jesus, he couldn't believe this was happening. Kenny flicked his eyes toward Eric, expectant (please). He nodded, just barely.

Infuriatingly, he didn't remove his underwear yet, but he couldn't-- " _Uh!_ " Fucking hell, Kenny! He mouthed at his cock through his underwear, tasting the ridiculous amount of slick. He was going to die like this. His heart battered his ears and the blood would leak onto the sheets.

"Kenny," he choked out, unable to sound the least bit threatening. 

"Yes?"

Eric lay there in stunned silence for a minute. Was he going to have to _beg_? 

He could _feel_ rather than see Kenny's devilish grin. "Yeah? What is it, babe?"

Eric groaned in frustration. "Ugh, come on." His underwear was wet and he wanted out of them.

As before, he felt Kenny's eyebrow raise. He could just imagine it as he said, "What do you mean?" One of his weaselly fingers lightly trailed along his penis and his legs jerked. He could sob in frustration right now. He knew what he wanted him to say, goddamn chivalrous son-of-a-bitch. Oh, the price this exacted on his soul!

"Please, please, fucking _please_ suck me off, touch me, I don't care, do _something_!" Even as Kenny, pleased with Eric's display of pathetic begging, graciously obliged and hooked his fingers through the elastic waistband of his boxer-briefs, Eric strung together as many "Fuck you"'s as he had the energy to say. 

"Fuck you, fuck you, fuck--!"

Kenny, for once in his miserable life, was not teasing the everloving shit out of him anymore. He had his fist curled around the base and his mouth sheathed the rest of his member and he was ready to bust after all of three seconds. His toes curled and he clenched his legs around Kenny's head.

He was past caring about how he sounded and moaned shamelessly. It felt too _good_ but he could feel himself tightening up. Oh shit, he should--

He tapped on Kenny's arm a few times as a warning, but Kenny either didn't care or was too wrapped up in trying to kill Eric to notice. He stopped trying to get his attention and grabbed fistfuls of Kenny's hair because oh God he was gonna come--

He jerked into Kenny's mouth, ascending or descending or crescendoing or mercifully blanking into no thought at all as Kenny swallowed him, held him down until it was over. 

He popped off of him and the cold air hit his softening dick. That was it. He was as empty as the dead shells of June bugs. His legs trembled and he couldn't control it.

Kenny crawled back up and kissed him, softly this time. He tasted his own bitter taste on his tongue.

He was soft and stupid, sucked into placidity but not for long. Though he felt his eyelids droop, he could see the outline of Kenny's neglected manhood and reached for it. Kenny let him.

He grasped him roughly. "Jesus, Cartman," he gasped.

"I'm not the only one who talks too much," he said, still a little breathless. Kenny huffed in response.

He felt some giddy satisfaction when Kenny thrust into his hand. Power was his. He slipped tentative fingers underneath his waistband and marveled at the feeling of hot skin.

Kenny breathed heavily, patiently allowing Eric to explore him. He was built so differently, flat and angular and perfect, and his chubby fingers were inferior tools. But he was resourceful.

He trailed up toward the head, which was _wet_ , and Kenny groaned when Eric squeezed him.

"You're dripping like a girl," Eric said maliciously, slicking him up and down and listening to the hitch in his breathing.

"You're-- one to talk, Princess," he said with obvious strain. He was rocking his hips into Eric's hand, aided by the wetness already there.

Eric slipped his other hand in without warning to tug on Kenny's balls. 

"Shit!" He bucked forward. "Good God, give a guy some warning!"

"Where's the fun in that?" he purred. He jerked him roughly a few times before Kenny moved away. Momentarily he was at a loss about what to do with his wet hand. For a second he wondered if he had done something wrong.

"I'm taking this off." He wiggled out of his boxers and threw them somewhere before pressing himself fully against Eric's body again.

"Hell yeah, you're so warm." He kissed him, more tenderly than he had before, almost languid in his movements. Meanwhile Eric was overly aware of the wet streaks Kenny's cock left on his belly, and he remembered he had some torturing to do.

He kissed along his neck, mirroring what Kenny had done earlier, while he toyed with Kenny's cock, hoping this could serve as some sort of payback. However, he didn't have Kenny's incredible patience, and quickly devolved into nibbling the soft skin close to the base of his neck, his free hand buried in his hair.

"Move a little faster, Cartman." He gleefully noted the impatience creeping into Kenny's voice.

"Why should I?" he said muffled into the crook of his neck.

"Ugh, I hate you," he said breathlessly, still sliding his cock through Eric's slick hand.

"I'll move faster if you sweeten the deal."

"Sweeten the-- I sucked your dick, Pillow Princess, what else do you want?" His unconcealed exasperation set Eric's heart galloping.

"Hmmmm." His hand stilled while he pretended to think. Kenny squirmed impatiently.

"Beg."

"What?"

"Beg for it. Beg me to jerk you off."

"You're so annoying."

"I want a show." His tongue was between his teeth and his eyes were a challenge, though it was too dark to see much.

"Fine." He placed his burning-hot hands on either side of Eric's face, with his thumbs on his cheeks, just under his eyes. "Take my cock, you bastard. Let me come in your pretty little mouth or bury myself in your ass, hmm? Please, Princess? Let me be your servant. Please let me come."

Eric crushed his lips in a kiss. That's the subservience he liked to hear from his friends. The power to give and the power to take.

He pulled away. "Get off."

"Don't mind if I do."

"No, dumbass, _get up._ " He pushed Kenny up by the shoulders and he rearranged them so that Eric was on top.

"How do you want this to go?" Eric said, suddenly nervous to be staring down at Kenny from above. He had no idea what he was doing.

Kenny, that laidback fuck, put his arms behind his head. "That's up to you, sweetpea. We go as far as you want to go."

He knew damn well that that was as good as a challenge for Eric, and he would push it as far as he _could_ go. He repositioned himself, hands gripping Kenny's bony shoulders, and ground down on his dick.

The reaction was immediate. "Ohh fuck yeah, Princess." Eric was furious that he couldn't see Kenny's expression well, but he could tell his brows were furrowed and his nostrils flared, and the enthusiastic grinding against his ass told him quite enough.

He leaned over to bury his face in his neck, still letting Kenny rut against him. All this bare skin, untouched by teeth. Without preamble, he sucked hard at his pulse-point, making him groan. When he couldn't resist anymore, he added teeth and Kenny _whimpered._ Now that was a beautiful sound. How could he get him to repeat it?

Kenny gathered him closer until there wasn't an inch between them. Practically nose to nose, Kenny whispered, "Please touch me."

Without a word he supported himself by his hands and let his tongue travel across his skin. He was devoid of consciousness and fear and just wanted to taste everything; when would he get the chance again? He lost his shame completely when his cock started filling out again, and lust muffled any dissenting thoughts.

His whole body was a craggy, unfamiliar space, angular where he was soft, concave where he was convex. He experimentally licked one of Kenny's nipples and his breath hitched (do it again, rat boy). He sucked harder on it, feeling it harden under his tongue. Unlike Eric, Kenny had no shame about being loud.

"You're gonna--hah--kill me."

(good)

Eric grinned.

He made his way down, nipping at this or that spot, and leaving a trail of sloppy kisses below his navel. 

He was confronted with Kenny's erection, which was starting to leak (what did it taste like?). Now what was he going to do with this?

Kenny leaned up a bit to look at Eric.

"What's up?"

"Uh, n--"

"C'mon, tubby, I've seen you eat before, you know how to put things in your mouth. Just don't bite." Kenny reassured him with a pat on the arm.

Eric's mind was tumbling too fast for him to get mad at being called tubby. Gingerly, he wrapped his fingers around the base of Kenny's erection. Kenny shuffled his feet a bit in anticipation. Eric flicked his eyes upward but Kenny looked away at that same moment.

He leaned forward, breath ghosting over the head, and stuck his tongue out, lapping up the precome at the top. Kenny hissed and slumped back on the pillow. For a few moments he satisfied himself with small licks to the tip. The fluid was almost flavorless. Just a hint of salt and bitter. Encouraged by Kenny's tacit approval, he licked a stripe from the base to the head and Kenny twitched and moaned.

He was already half-hard again, but he was too focused on his new task. Fuck it. He opened his mouth until just the head was fully inside. He stayed still for a second, just savoring the surreality of the moment. It was so warm. Everything about Kenny was warm. His eyelids weren't staying up but it didn't really matter, he didn't need to see much.

"There you go, Princess. That's it." 

He sank as low as he could without choking, which wasn't all that low. But what he lacked in experience he tried to make up for with a good attitude. 

Kenny must have noticed. "Hell yeah. Fuck. You're so pretty when you're quiet."

Eric hummed angrily and dragged his teeth along his penis in retaliation.

"Ow, ow, watch the teeth!"

He popped off for a second. "Watch your mouth." He must not have looked that threatening with drool running down his chin because Kenny laughed at him.

"I'm just messin' with you, sweetheart. You take everything so seriously." He ran his fingers through Eric's hair in a placating gesture. He paused for a moment, thoughtful. "You don't have to keep doing this if you don't want to."

Eric was, as usual, offended. His eyebrows lowered, and he refused to reveal how desperate he was for (reassurance) an answer. "You don't like it?"

"I love it. But I don't want to overwhelm you."

"I can take care of myself."

"Yeah, I know. But maybe I want to take care of _you_ , Queen Cartman."

"Please don't call me that." 

"Yes, sir." He saluted in the dark.

Eric scowled, then deadpanned, "Do you want your dick sucked or not?"

"No, not really." Before Eric could protest, Kenny quickly added, "I mean yes, but no." Eric waited for him to continue. "Truthfully I want you to fuck yourself on my dick but since you're the blushing virgin I'm not gonna push you."

He tapped his fingers on Kenny's leg, considering his options. He hadn't exactly planned on being here right now.

But if he was going to regret tomorrow anyway, he might as well push this a little more.

"Okay. Let's do it."

Kenny sat up in surprise. "Oh, wait, what? I mean I'm not complaining but--" He stuttered and stopped and started a few sentences while Eric lay there with a lazy smile watching as he ran himself in circles.

Finally, he said, "Have you ever. . .inserted anything?"

Eric shocked Kenny when he laughed out loud. "What kind of fucking question is that? Are you serious? You've known me your whole lower-class life and you're asking me if I've ever stuck anything up my ass. What do you think?"

Kenny shifted to lean against the headboard more comfortably, arms now crossed. His head tilted in an appraising way. "I think. . .the only reason we didn't call you gay is because Mr. Garrison made _everyone_ look straight."

"Oh fuck you, Kenny."

"No, it sounds like you want it the other way around, baby doll." Eric thought he looked unforgivably smug in that moment.

After a brief hesitation: "Okay, well. . .do you have lube?" He wanted to do this before he second-guessed his decision.

" _Do I have lube?_ You think I was going to go to a con without any lube?" He giggled at the absurd idea.

He hopped out of bed with the lightness of a street urchin and padded toward the bathroom. The light flicked on. He heard him rummaging for just long enough that Eric began to fidget with nervousness. He repositioned himself so that his back was against the wooden headboard and tried to keep himself from tapping on the wood.

Kenny padded back out, silhouetted by the sickly bathroom light. The extra light illuminated his disheveled hair and bony limbs (he was pretty). His gap-toothed grin was now visible. He dangled the small bottle from his fingers, holding it up to make sure Eric saw it. When he walked, he made no noise.

"Alright, Princess, lie down." Eric got comfortable in the middle of the bed and tried to stay still. He was actually a little nervous, not about the act, which he had done to himself many times, but about the actor.

His childhood friend was actually going to stick his fingers in his ass. He set the bottle on the nightstand and focused on (his prey) Eric again.

He leaned over him and kissed him lightly. Just for a second. Near his ear, he whispered, "On your hands and knees, baby." Kenny watched him awkwardly position himself. Now that the bathroom light was on, his body cast an ungainly shadow on the bed. His arms shook a little bit and he hoped Kenny didn't notice. God, he felt stupid and exposed like this, fat belly and stubborn half-hard cock hanging down. His dick was a sucker and so was he.

Nothing happened for a minute and Eric fought the urge to turn his head. His face flushed hot at how he must have looked but he tried not to think about it.

Kenny massaged his thighs, trying to get him used to being in this bitch position; he must have known he wasn't relaxed. 

He pulled his hands away. "Let me know if you don't want this." He had about one breath before Kenny spread him apart and licked him from his taint to the top of his crack.

His cock jerked and he _yelped._ "Holy fuck!" If it wasn't so (humiliating) unexpected, it would have felt amazing. He turned around to stare at Kenny in unconcealed wonderment.

Kenny's eyes glittered and his grin was evil. "Feel okay?"

Eric tried to parse the words to find the joke. Surely it was a joke. He exhaled. "Y--yeah."

When his tongue attacked him again, he pitched forward and groaned openly. Jesus _Christ._ That shouldn't feel that good. It was a goddamn sin. Ironically, when Kenny's probing tongue lapped at his hole and his mind slipped into some burning dark ocean he thought about those fire-and-brimstone preachers, how they would react to this incredible sodomy. Would they drip onto the sheets like he was?

"Oh _fuck_." He panted like a little bitch and he didn't care, he didn't _care he didn't care didn't care didn't care_ \--

Kenny pulled away and fuck him, he would never forgive him now-- He heard the flick of the lid like a cocked gun. He held his breath. "I think you're relaxed enough, hmm?"

He turned just enough to nod at him. 

Instead of his tongue, he felt his slicked-up fingers. His stubborn cock pointed enthusiastically forward. He hated how much he wanted this.

One finger slipped in easily, down to the knuckle. He wasn't new to inserting things in himself, but having someone else do it felt (intimate) weird. He very quickly added a second finger and scissored him open. It burned in a dull pleasurable way. Eric huffed and bit back a curse.

He felt Kenny curve his fingers downward and he said, "Ay, what are you doing back there?"

"Nothing. Just this." He pressed on something spongy and Eric howled.

"You ever found your prostate before, Princess?"

"Yeah, a few times," he said in a thin, high voice like a little bitch.

"Just wondering," he said as he managed to fit a third finger inside him. He groaned at the intrusion. Alright, that's enough; he felt sufficiently stretched. He was tired of being teased.

"Can we speed this up, Ken?" he asked, still buzzing from Kenny's stupid fingers.

"Yes, ma'am." Ugh. Why did he call him that? Dumb nicknames or not, he couldn't resist turning back to watch Kenny slick himself up, but he turned around before he was caught staring.

Kenny aligned himself but didn't push in yet. "Ready, sweetheart?" 

"Yes, just do it! Stop fucking around!"

"Okay, Princess." He pushed forward, stretching him out slowly and God, he didn't have to be so gentle! 

"I'm not gonna break, for fuck's sake. Don't be a pussy!"

Kenny sniffed. "Okay, Cartman." He drew almost all the way out and slammed into Eric without warning; he screamed and it hurt like a bitch and he fell onto his elbows because Kenny had dispensed with mercy. What did he expect? He'd asked for it.

His pace was hard and fast and Eric, white-knuckled, gripped the sheets. Kenny pushed Eric's shoulders down and angled himself differently until he struck his prostate, and Eric lost it. He _keened._

Kenny leaned over him, continuing to wring the last scraps of thought from him. He whispered close to his ear, "Fuck, you're so pretty. I love when you moan for me." He felt the breath on the back of his neck and distantly he balked at the sweet talk (it wasn't his), but fuck, his mind was a tiny dot and his legs barely supported him and for some reason he loved when Kenny spoke to him like that. Like he deserved it.

Kenny's words tumbled out all at once, a stream of nothing as he chased his orgasm: "You're so tight, I can't believe I finally get to do this--" (wait) "--you're beautiful, you're mine--" (wait!) "--I want you like this forever--"

He reached under Eric and jerked him roughly. His eyes were closed and he couldn't shut up and his mind spun endlessly in ever-tightening circles-- he tensed up, he was on the cusp-- Then Kenny's hand squeezed the base of his penis like a vice; he stopped moving. Eric's eyes were frantic when he looked behind him.

Kenny looked wild, nostrils flared and lips parted. "Say my name, Cartman. Say it."

"Kenny?"

"Say it again." He moved slowly inside him, just to torture him, but the hand on his dick didn't move.

"Kenny. Kenny." He tasted the name, not used to saying it over and over. Like a prayer.

"Good boy. Keep saying it." He resumed his maddening pace and Eric was going to last exactly ten more seconds.

"Kenny, Kenny, Kenny, Ken--! _Fuck!_ " He nearly sobbed as he finally came over Kenny's hand and onto the sheets below him. It was so _much_ , he had nothing left.

He was boneless as Kenny chased after his own release, which did not take long. His thrusts became uneven and he said just as unevenly, "You're perfect!" A few more thrusts and his hips stuttered, spilling inside him. They both were still for a moment, seemingly in shock at what had happened. Then he pulled out and flopped onto the bed.

As much as Eric wanted to do the same, he had to run to the bathroom instead.

When he had the chance, he looked into the mirror. Holy shit, he was a fucking mess. He was still flushed from his head to his chest and his neck had a few bites which were sure to become colorful and obscenely noticeable. He had bitten his lips raw. His hair was eldritch and his eyes were unusually dark. And that was only what the light reflected; he also felt soreness setting in already, everywhere.

Time had congealed in the summer heat and in the tackiness on his skin. He washed his hands and splashed his face with water. Though he couldn't be quite silent at his weight and his level of not caring, he walked lightly toward the bed and glanced at the digital clock. It was 9:30. Night had barely started and he was already done. Kenny was still awake, just staring at the ceiling contentedly. At some point he had put his boxers back on. Eric thought he should do the same. He dug around for clean underwear so he didn't feel so. . .open anymore. Like a wound.

He sat on the edge of the bed, facing toward the window and away from Kenny. The lights were really pretty, soothing blue and orange and white eyes that never blinked after dark.

The bed didn't squeak when Kenny shifted but he heard him shift. He placed a hand on his shoulder. Just normal. "What's on your mind, sweetheart?"

Eric burst into tears.

Goddammit! Dammit, dammit, what's happening? What the fuck? Stop it stop stop stop--

"Hey, wait-- hey, what's wrong, buddy?" He rubbed his back and waited for him to answer. He appreciated Kenny's kindness for the moment.

But he would still tear him apart later. It was necessary after all these faggotronics. To restore balance. He was so tired suddenly, dropped from a great height after being wound all the way up and let go just to unravel and fall to the bottom. He had opened and everything had spilled out.

The tears rolled down thick and ugly but they slowed and stopped and his rocky breathing evened out after some minutes. All the while Kenny rubbed his back and it felt. . .nice. Comforting. But that was the problem, wasn't it? 

Kenny leaned his head on Eric's shoulder and his eyes pricked. Fuck, not again. He had been gay enough tonight. He just wanted to be alright and let his friend fuck him to within an inch of his life and then go back to normal afterwards, not turn on the neon lights and fireworks to advertise what a gigantic (sentimental) loser he was.

Kenny looked up at him, his (love) concern so ridiculously obvious. Kenny was always a little bit soft anyway. 

"Ugh. Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like--" He waved his hand in Kenny's general direction. "Like that. Like a fag."

He raised his eyebrows. "Why, it takes one to know one!"

He shoved Kenny off of him, but Eric was actually smiling a bit. Just a bit.

"Princess! How could you treat me this way? Right into the wet spot too!"

Eric snickered at Kenny's obvious suffering and he felt normal enough to go dig around in his bag for his pills.

"Hell yeah, trap queen, get it!"

He did not dignify that with a response. He pulled out one bottle after another, scrutinizing each label in the dim light. The fourth bottle was the right one, and he twisted off the cap to take out one tiny white pill.

He took out a water bottle from the mini-fridge and took his medicine like a good boy.

"Okay, Ratty, we have about twenty minutes before this thing knocks me on my ass. Let's take a shower."

"Okay. Neat." Eric could always count on Kenny to not question anything, including why he would want to shower together.

Because if he fell then he wanted to make sure Kenny fell down too. So it wouldn't be as embarrassing. Duh.


End file.
